


Similarities

by xxX_x_o_x_Xxx



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dadza, F/M, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxX_x_o_x_Xxx/pseuds/xxX_x_o_x_Xxx
Summary: Philza hummed to himself as the eggs sizzled on the hot pan in his hand. The sun had just risen and was peaking over the mountains; light poured in through the window and covered the homey kitchen with a warm blanket. Through the thick woods that surrounded the cottage, birds chirped and sang a sweet melody. It was the same tune as always but today it reminded the young blond man of an old song he learned long ago.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Similarities

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My name is Eye! I’ve never written family dynamic stuff and never any Sleepy Bois Inc. stuff either but this was really fun to write! I didn’t intend for it to be angst at first but it just kinda evolved lol
> 
> I hope this ok lol

Philza hummed to himself as the eggs sizzled on the hot pan in his hand. The sun had just risen and was peaking over the mountains; light poured in through the window and covered the homey kitchen with a warm blanket. Through the thick woods that surrounded the cottage, birds chirped and sang a sweet melody. It was the same tune as always but today it reminded the young blond man of an old song he learned long ago.

“Dad! Dad!” A tiny boy, only about four or so, ran up and pulled at Phil’s pant leg, “Techno and Wilbur are fighting again!” He huffed and his big blue eyes looked a little teary, though you could barely see them behind his large tuft of golden hair. 

“Is it serious? Or are they just playing, Tommy boy?” He kept his eyes focused on the fiery stove until he heard a loud yelp from the yard.

Philza hastily set the pan back into the stovetop and dashed out the wooden doors to the front yard. There he found the small family garden, a large Tommy sized dirt patch that the eldest son had “jokingly” dug, and blood splattered across the bright green grass. 

“Techno!” The young dad rushed to the side of his son. This boy had pink hair that went an inch or two below his shoulders and was always covered in bandages. He was very easily Tommy’s biggest role model and this was shown through the many bandages he wore too, yet most of the little kid’s covered perfect, smooth skin. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. He just surprised me. ‘Actually put up a good fight for once,” The pink haired child stood up, aided by his father, at his full height and towered above the older man. At only 14, he was the tallest in his family. 

“Ha ha very funny. You only barely beat me every time. You’re just afraid of how good I’m getting,” The third and final boy shot his brother a sly smile before picking up the stone swords that had fallen into the dirt. He held each of them in one hand by their dirty handles that had been layered with adhesive tape to cover the scars from years of use. He shook his head back and knocked the fluffy brown hair out of his eyes before walking away to the shack. 

“Hey! Get back here, Wilbur! You have some apologizing to do!” Philza took a few frustrated steps following his middle son, but stopped and turned back to Techno, “Let’s get you inside, eh? Where’d you get hit?” 

“He got my side pretty good. If this’d been a real fight, I think I’d be dead,” He chuckled to himself but Philza was not humored by this. 

“Don’t say those kinds of things. We are family, and family does not hurt each other. I don’t want you two sparring anymore.” He sat Techno down at the dining table and searched through the cupboards for the bandages. He could’ve sworn they’d been in the far left one past the sink. 

“It’s just a little practice. The bandages are in the cupboard above and to the right of the sink now. Tommy keeps wasting them.” 

“I do not!” A small voice chirped from the room over where Tommy had hidden. He didn’t like it when his brothers’ fights got out of hand. 

Phil carried the small case back towards his pink haired son and dragged a chair over. Techno lifted his shirt and revealed a deep gash that had caused the large red stain in his white clothing. 

“My Gods.” Philza whispered as he ran his hand by it. He apologized when Techno winced. 

“It’s gonna need more than a few bandages, isn’t it?” Even though he’d gotten several wounds in his time, he still didn’t like looking at the blood. Something about it gave him strange thoughts that he preferred to ignore and avoid at all costs. 

“Dad…” Tommy pointed worriedly and Phil looked over at the blazing fire on the stove. 

“Shit!”

***

Wilbur tapped his foot as he softly sang a tune and strummed his guitar. 

“Wilby?” Tommy sat by his feet, half asleep in the grass with a face full of hot sun. He tried his best to stay awake but Wilbur saw his younger brother’s head bob back and forth in a sleepy daze. 

“Yeah, Big Man?” 

“What’s the song you’re singing?” 

Wilbur smiled but bittersweetness hung at the corners of his mouth, “A song Mother taught me. She sang it to you, too.” 

“I don’t remember it,” The blonde boy’s words trailed off now and he snuggled against the elder’s leg. 

Wilbur paid no mind to the slumbering child and kept playing, his fingers strumming against the taut strings that his mother had taught him how to tune. As he sang the song he felt a sort of nostalgic longing. 

“ _ Once I had a child, _

_ He was wilder than moonlight, _

_ He could do it all, _

_ like he’d been here before.” _

_ Once I had a child, _

_ She was smiling like sunshine, _

_ She could see it all, _

_ Like she’s been here before.” _

_ Then I had a child, _

_ Took his while like northern summer, _

_ And he knows it all, _

_ Like he’s been here before.” _

He missed his mother deeply. Wilbur felt that he was the one that missed her the most of all of the men. Tommy didn’t have any memories of her; he was just a small baby when she passed. Techno never talked about her and pretended like she had never existed. At least that’s how Wilbur felt. He felt his father hadn’t mourned his wife nearly as long as he should’ve. 

***

Philza spent his afternoon standing at the sink scrubbing dried eggs off of a scratched pan. Typically, things such as cleaning dishes didn’t take hours but when you’re as lost in thought as this winged father than it can take up whole evenings with muddy thoughts and memories you wish you could forget.

The riff being played in the yard was what had sent him into his daydreams again. 

The last thing he wanted was for his children to think their father was lost along with their mother. He missed her horribly, but he still had children to care for and feed. Though, he wasn’t doing a very good job at the feeding part. 

He had never been a skilled cook, but when a lovely, ethereal woman came along and taught him how to make dishes that made his mouth water now to even think about, he felt competent. She had taught him many things, but now that she wasn’t here to scold him out of his bad habits of wandering away from pots on the stove and leaving the weapons shed unlocked, his kids were in danger. 

“Ow!” Phil winced when his hand dragged along a knife sunk in the bottom of the soapy water. He felt that he really should put away these dishes. 

“Hey, Dad?” He had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Wilbur standing beside him, looking at the mountains. 

“Yes?” 

“I’m going to leave and go on my own tomorrow.”

“hm...wait, what?” Philza took a moment to understand what the boy with the brown hair was saying, “Leaving?”

“Yes. I’ll be taking one of the swords with me,” He didn’t break his focus on a small deer that he saw beyond the tree line. 

“...Why?” The father’s voice was coated with regret. 

Wilbur did not respond and the silence slowly broke the older man down. Soft sobs came from him, but Wilbur simply walked away. 

***

In the morning, Tommy felt the rising sun light up behind his eyelids. He yawned and stretched his small limbs out so that he looked like a scrawny little starfish. Of course, he’d never seen one before but Wilbur had told him about them. 

Wilbur! He had to go wake him up! Tommy was convinced that Wilbur wouldn’t know it was morning unless he told him. 

He rolled out of his bed that he could practically swim in. His bare feet made a thump! when he landed on the wooden boards and made soft pat! pat! pats! when he ran down the hall to Wilbur’s door.

The doorknob was a little high for his reach but Wilbur told him he was a Big Man so he knew he could get it. He stuck his tongue out in focus and heard the satisfying click when the door eased open. 

“Wilby! Wilby!” He ran across the rug and straight at the large bed on the opposite side, “Sun’s up! Sun’s up! You gotta get up now!” 

He shook the covers and waited for the protesting groans. When he didn’t hear them he shook the blanket again. Welp, this just meant it was time for Plan B! 

Tommy gave the room a good once over, searching for the perfect tool. He placed his hand on his chin and thought hard. When his big blue eyes found an oak box in the corner hiding behind the door he scrambled over to it.

“C’mon, Wilby! You can’t fight the day! It’s still happening whether you like it or not!” The box was a bit difficult to pull across the rug, but he found that if he pushed it, it was much easier to move. 

The rug scrunched up as he pushed the box full of notebooks and sheet music over to the bed. He pulled himself up onto the box one limb at a time and stood up tall. 

Now he was much taller than the bed and he could see it was perfectly made up except for a cluster of wrinkles where he had previously been haphazardly swatting for a 14 year old’s arm. The 14 year old wasn’t here, though. Not in the bed at least. 

Tommy jumped off the box and searched around the room. Wilbur liked playing hide and seek sometimes so he wasn’t surprised that the older boy seemed to be missing from his sheets. 

The blonde floof of hair searched under the desk, in the closet, in the footstool box, and under the bed. Wilby didn’t seem to be in his room. 

Maybe he was somewhere else in the house. 

***

Technoblade looked into the mirror and sighed. He took a step back and untucked his shirt from his pants, revealing the stitches that started from his hip and traced up to stop just before his ribs. 

The wound wasn’t too deep. It would heal up in a month or two and the only thing to show for it would be a scar along his left side. He had many scars already, a few of those much more serious, nonetheless this one hurt far more. 

He let the hem of the shirt drop down again and exhaled once more. His gaze drifted up to look into his own eyes. He stared for a moment and then his face slowly shifted. 

He skin went from a soft, pale peach to a dirty pink and his ears became large and droopy. His nose widened into a large snout. This was his gift from his father, the gift of shape shifting. This was how he was meant to look and yet he changed to look like the others more often than not. 

He really didn’t mind his own reflection. He thought he was quite handsome, but one thing irked him, something he couldn’t change. His eyes. 

Long ago, many years before Tommy was born, their mother gave birth to a pair of beautiful twin boys. 

She was proud of them and told everyone she met about the two. When the strangers would ask if the children were identical she would always respond by saying “Practically!” 

Obviously, a pink child with a pig snout and a pale child with a small human nose are anything but identical and yet she talked about them as if they were the same. 

When she would describe their talents, she would always talk about Wilbur first. Who wouldn’t want to talk about their musical savant child? He was talented in any instrument he was handed and was beyond charming. 

The strangers would ask Techno if he sang with his brother. The looks on their faces when he said no were forever burned in his brain. If they had asked him about literature or legends he could’ve shown them just how amazing he was, but instead he was measured by his brother’s ruler. 

As he looked into his own deep brown eyes he winced. They were one of the only two similarities he shared with his twin. He didn’t want to look at them any longer. 

The piglin boy stepped out of the washroom and out of the house. He stopped in front of the shed. 

It was old and rotting and the lock on the door was broken beyond repair, but it still hung off the handle. Techno grasped the metal piece in his hand. 

When Technoblade was seven, a great storm flew over the cabin. It was an unforgiving snowstorm that lasted for nearly a month and covered the mountains and fields with thick layers of freezing snow and ice. Once the family was finally able to leave the home, they had gone to check on the shed but found the lock frozen and stubborn. 

Their mother being a sorceress of ice could’ve easily fixed it on her own, yet she didn’t. Philza had had to break the lock open with an axe he managed to find hidden deep within a closet in the small home. 

Techno ran his fingers over the markings that had been left in the wooden door all those years ago. He chucked the lock to the ground. 

Inside, he found a lone stone sword. He carried it from it’s stand on the wall into the home. 

“Technoblade, no weapons in the house-“ Philza looked up from his seat at the table and watched his son swiftly pass him and move on to the bedrooms, “Hey!” 

Techno slammed open Wilbur’s vacant room and stood still in the doorway for a moment. The neatly folded blankets on the bed mocked him and the overflowing closet spit in his face. 

He thought about what he was going to do during that moment of silence. He knew it was wrong. He knew it would make Philza angry and Tommy scared. He knew he didn’t care. 

You see, their mother was right when she said the twins had similarities. Two, in fact: their eyes, and their violent tendencies. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the whole thing! I hope this wasn’t as horribly written as I’ve convinced myself it is lol
> 
> The song that Wilbur sings is called “Here Before” by Vashti Bunyan! It’s a very nice song and I recommend listening if you wanna feel sad and nostalgic but like also oddly happy? IDK lmao just go listen pls I’m begging. 
> 
> Have a wonderful day, my friend!


End file.
